


Depth Over Distance

by jjongorable



Category: VIXX
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fluff, M/M, and a break, hakyeon is an angel, i can't believe he almost wasn't a character, i love my hongbin so much, someone give wonsik a hug, someone pls figure out what taekwoon is thinking, something is going on with wontaek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-27
Updated: 2019-03-27
Packaged: 2019-06-29 08:28:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15725691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jjongorable/pseuds/jjongorable
Summary: The many times Wonsik figures he’s in love with his roommate. Because there’s a lot. But Wonsik tells himself that a crush won’t last for eight months.I mean, he’s not wrong.





	1. Months 1-3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first vixx fic outside of a fic challenge and I had so much fun writing this and building these characters and getting inside their heads. DOD already feels like my precious baby.
> 
> I want to thank J and K for beta-ing this fic and dealing with my over the top emotions and shut downs and writer's block and constant questions and scream fights and hardheadedness...yea thank you both ^^

[1]

Wonsik is running late, but he’s always late so he knows Hongbin won’t mind too much. Hongbin who always makes him pay for their lunch despite being the son of some rich lawyer Wonsik’s never met. Hongbin who spins his lines about Wonsik being older and whatnot. But if you asked Wonsik, seven months is an eye blink and Hongbin is just cheap.

Their lunch spot is just a few blocks away, so he really doesn’t need to rush. But Wonsik hasn’t seen his old roommate since the new semester started a month ago, and by some strange twist of emotions he actually misses him. Misses the friend who would go on late night food runs for him when he was too focused on his work and forgot to eat. The friend who almost burned their apartment down because he knocked over a candle when he got too excited playing a damn game. They’d only roomed together for their first two terms at university but if you asked Wonsik, Hongbin was a life-long companion.

So, when his pants are finally buckled and he’s run a lazy hand through his hair, Wonsik sends a quick text saying he’s on his way and then he’s out the door, shoes in his hand because he can save time by putting them on as he walks.

Wonsik is only slightly out of breath when he reaches the coffee shop. He spots Hongbin in their usual spot already, unsurprising since he’s never late to anything. Neither him nor Hongbin drink coffee, but the place offers the best brewed tea and happens to be owned by Hongbin’s grandmother. Which means Wonsik can eat all the pastries he can stuff in his mouth whenever he stops by.

“Did you run here?” Wonsik slips into the seat across from Hongbin and orders a black tea when the waiter passes. He smiles at Hongbin’s raised eyebrow.

“I slightly jogged.”

“So, you ran?”

Wonsik has to keep himself from rolling his eyes, something he never seems to get a rest from when he’s with Hongbin. Much like how Hongbin never seems to stop teasing him when they’re together. “How’s your grandmother?”

“Not here so don’t ask for her special cake.”

Another suppressed eye-roll. “I was genuinely asking about her wellbeing.”

“Oh, like how you genuinely asked about mine?”

“How are _you_ doing, Bin?”

“Fine. Thank you for asking.” It’s barely been two minutes and Wonsik already feels his feet itching to run back out the door. In the past month, Wonsik has almost forgotten, _almost_ , just how much of a handful Hongbin can be when he’s in the mood. But Wonsik has three sisters and Hongbin doesn’t compare. He can handle a bratty nineteen-year-old.

“How’s the semester been treating you so far?”

“It’s only been a month.”

“And?”

Hongbin whines as he reaches across the table to grab at Wonsik’s wrists. “I can’t believe you didn’t want to room with me again.”

“You know I can’t afford even half of your apartment.” That and Wonsik actually likes the opportunities that come with rooming with someone new each year. He shakes Hongbin’s hands away.

“I’m _so_ lonely. All the time.” Hongbin’s using what he would call his ‘persuasive tone’ but it really just sounds like he’s a four-year-old and it hammers at Wonsik’s ears like a siren.

“Sure. Because your girlfriend and your new gaming system aren’t keeping you busy enough.”

“Nothing like a good ole bromance to top things off.” Wonsik is given the perfect opportunity to ignore Hongbin’s suggestive smirk when the waiter approaches with his tea. He takes a sip, which turns out to be a bad idea as Hongbin continues. “You know, I was thinking about trying out for the school soccer team.”

“With what athletic ability?” Wonsik can barely speak between his laughs and the tea running out of his mouth. He’d forgotten how to swallow.

“Isn’t your new roommate on the soccer team? Can’t he coach me?”

Wonsik reaches for a napkin to dab at the tea he spilled on his clothes. He should make Hongbin buy him a new shirt. “Yes and no.”

“What? Why not?”

“My rule as best roommate is to keep toxic people in my life away from him.”

“How am I toxic?” Hongbin’s voice raises an octave and Wonsik has to keep from covering his ears.

“You’re not.” Wonsik reassures him because he knows that Hongbin’s probably a breath away from fake crying and that would just warrant the unnecessary attention that Hongbin always craves and Wonsik hates. “I just want to keep you two far away from each other.”

“Is it cause I’m too hot and you’re scared I’ll ruin any chances you have with your crush?” Hongbin’s taken up half the table, face resting in his hands as he invades Wonsik’s area. So close Wonsik can see the tiny birthmark just below his left eyebrow.

“I don’t have a crush.”

“Sure, you don’t. Just like you how aren’t blushing right now.”

“I’m not.” Hongbin sits back properly so his shadow isn’t looming over Wonsik, who feels like he can properly breathe again.

“What’s his name?”

“I’m not telling you Taekwoon’s name.” Wonsik curses himself and stands as Hongbin explodes into a fit of laughter, loud and uncaring of the customers now glaring at their table. Wonsik bows awkwardly at the onlookers before pulling Hongbin’s ear.

“Bye Hongbin.”

“What? No, you just got here!”

“And now I’m leaving.” Wonsik grabs his unfinished tea on the table before patting Hongbin’s head twice. “I’ll see you later, Bin.”

“Wonsik, wait. Come back.” Wonsik feels clumsy hands trying to take hold of his wrists and he can barely understand Hongbin with all his dramatic wheezing. “I won’t talk about your gigantic crush on Taekwoon anymore. Just sit back down.”

Wonsik is no match for when Hongbin puts on his best pouty face and pleading voice. It’s also still a bit hard to say no to someone so handsome. So, he sits down again. “Fine.”

“Have you been working on any songs?” Wonsik squints at Hongbin before nodding. He’s worked on a few, but they’re all terribly unfinished and Wonsik isn’t confident in any of them at the moment. He’s been trying to book times at the school’s studio for this semester, but it’s hard convincing the new instructor to keep the rooms open past closing. Wonsik works best during the late hours.

Hongbin gives Wonsik a look that says “will you show me?” so, he takes out his phone and pulls up his demos, scowling when he has to hand it over to Hongbin.

They listen to a few seconds of each, Wonsik trying hard not to give in to his aggressive want to plug his ears with his fingers.

“Stop pouting. These are good.” Hongbin says as he hands him back his phone. “Except you sound like a lovesick puppy.”

“I’m not lovesick,” Wonsik denies with a pout. Because he isn’t. He doesn’t even have a crush.

“Sure you aren’t.”

“Hongbin.”

“Wonsik.” He’s glaring at Hongbin, who simply stares back, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. But a buzzing in Wonsik’s phone diverts both their attention to the device sitting on the table.

_> are you home? left my keys so I can’t get in_

Wonsik shakes his head at the text. This isn’t the first time either of them have done this. He’d suggest they stop locking the door altogether since they know most everyone in the complex. But he doesn’t think in the long run that it would be a good idea. That could potentially start a bad habit.

“I gotta go,” He says to Hongbin before standing up.

“Who was that?” Hongbin is too nosy for his own good. He always wants to know information, and for what reason? Wonsik ignores him. Hongbin will figure it out anyway, probably, since he loves playing detective. And sure enough, after just staring at Wonsik as he packs his things, Hongbin clicks his tongue.

“Oh, I know that smile. That’s the lovesick smile. Was that _Taekwoon_?” Wonsik doesn’t like the way Hongbin’s lips curl around his name, doesn’t like how his voice plays with the syllables.

_> >no but I’ll be back in 5**_

“Are you seriously ditching me for the crush?” Wonsik looks up from his phone to see that Hongbin is looking at him smugly, but no true hurt shows anywhere on his face, just amusement.

“I’m leaving. It was nice seeing you.”

“I’m gonna try out for the soccer team!”

“Don’t!” Wonsik yells back before hightailing it the few blocks home. He gave himself five minutes, but he wants to make it home in two.

***

Somehow and for some reason, Wonsik is up before 8am on a no-class Friday and he can’t go back to sleep. So, he’s booked a couple early hours at the studio so that he can go in and mess around on some files and feel like he hasn’t completely wasted his morning.

Just as he passes the kitchen on his way out, snagging a banana to eat on the go, his phone rings.

Wonsik doesn’t even get in a ‘hello’ before Hongbin is trying to blow out his eardrums.

“I tried out for the soccer team!”

“Oh?”

“I didn’t make it.” Hongbin does the wounded pride voice really well, Wonsik thinks as he mindlessly peels his banana. “But guess who I met?”

“Messi?”

“No silly. Taekwoon! He’s super cute. Especially when he’s all riled up.” Eh, Wonsik wouldn’t know, doesn’t think he particularly cares. “Shik, have you seen him all sweaty? He’s got a lot going for him, yknow. I wonder how he looks _naked_.” Hongbin whispers the last word like it’s scandalous and Wonsik feels the back of his neck start heating.

“I’m hanging up.”

“Wait! I introduced myself. I was all ‘hello I’m model/photographer Hongbin and I would love to have you pose for me.’ I used my suave business voice.”

“What suave business voice?”

“Shik, you should’ve seen his face! He got all shy and flustered and flicked my head. He told me to get back on the field, but not until I made him promise to let me shoot him!”

Wonsik pauses, banana hanging out his mouth and jacket half on. “You’re gonna take photos of Taekwoon?”

“Yup!”

“Did you tell him about me? About knowing me?”

“No, you didn’t come up.” Hongbin doesn’t miss a beat, which reassures Wonsik that he didn’t hear the clear panic in his voice. Or if he did, he didn’t catch on.

Wonsik finally gets his jacket on and bends over to do his shoes. He fumbles a bit over where he should put the empty banana peel before chucking it into the trash bin a couple feet away. Smiling, he thinks maybe he should try out for the basketball team.

“Did you want me to?” Hongbin asks, but continues before Wonsik can take another breath, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure to talk fondly about you during the photoshoot!”

“No, Hongbin –”

“I’ll only say good things and not talk about that one time we went hiking and you almost –”

“Okay, Bin, I have to go.”

“Why?”

“I’m headed to the studio.”

“Oh, oh. Okay, bye Shik! Don’t write about sweaty Taekwoon!”

***

Two weeks pass in which Wonsik forgets all about the conversation he had with Hongbin. That is until Taekwoon comes out of his room one Saturday morning while Wonsik is watching his morning cartoons, expertly balancing a bowl of noodles on a pillow.

It’d be just another Saturday if Taekwoon was in his after-run comfy apparel usually consisting of an overlarge t-shirt and sweats. But Wonsik discreetly chokes on a noodle going down his throat as his roommate passes him, fussing with one of the cuffs on a blazer Wonsik would kill to own. And Wonsik would say that Taekwoon’s very tight, very ripped jeans might be showing a little too much, leaving not enough to anyone’s imagination. But he’s friends with Hongbin and he’s, unfortunately, seen worse. Or better, if you see things from Hongbin’s point of view. “Skin out, confidence high,” he always says.

“You’re headed out?” Wonsik croaks out, cursing his sensitive throat and overenthusiastic craving for all things spicy.

“Yes.” Taekwoon mumbles, obviously distracted.

“You look…good.”

“Yeah?” Wonsik’s afraid that if he answers to his full abilities, he’d say something that would make them _both_ uncomfortable. Taekwoon smiles when Wonsik simply nods and heads for the door.

“Is it for the photoshoot?” Wonsik continues, because it looks like Taekwoon is about to leave too soon and Wonsik wants to stare just a little bit longer. How many more times will he get to see his roommate all dressed up? And besides, eye candy is eye candy, nothing more. He’s allowed to think someone is cute without having it be anything more.

“Hongbin picked out the clothes. I’m surprised he knew my size. I’m convinced he stole my missing gym set.” Shoes on, Taekwoon reaches for his keys off the hook by the door, before looking back at Wonsik. “How did you know? About the photoshoot?”

Wonsik bites his tongue for a moment, assessing the tone of Taekwoon’s voice. He doesn’t sound mad or anything, which is good. Wonsik didn’t overstep any boundaries. He surely doesn’t want Taekwoon to think he’s snooping in on his personal life or anything. Sure, they live together, but that’s not a straight way ticket to knowing everything about each other. “I’m kind of friends with Hongbin. He told me about it.”

‘Ah.” And with that, Taekwoon opens the door to leave.

“Have fun.” Wonsik yells after him, then proceeds to face palm because wow, did he really just tell Taekwoon to _have fun_?

Whatever, it’s not important. This conversation is not important, Wonsik repeats over in his head as he returns to his cartoons, upset that he’s missed so much of the plot he has no idea what’s going on. Plus, his noodles are cold now. It’s a perfect way to start his favorite day of the week.

***

Wonsik is sitting at his and Hongbin’s normal spot at the café. It’s one of the rare times that Wonsik arrives before Hongbin, so he’s ordered for the both of them and gotten to work on some homework for a statistics class he’s not sure why he’s even in. Why this course should be required for Music majors is beyond him, but, unfortunately, he doesn’t make the college rules. Oh, how he wishes he made the college rules so that he could just graduate already.

He’s halfway through designing a paired t-test when he hears Hongbin settle across from him.

“Do you want to see the pictures?” No greeting whatsoever, but Wonsik’s gotten used to Hongbin’s lack of formalities.

“No thanks.” He replies quickly, hoping to not lose focus on this problem because it takes him so long to get into a mood to do statistics and he doesn’t want to ruin it. Although, Hongbin couldn’t give two shits about Wonsik’s concentration or grades or anything as he tosses a vanilla folder right on top of Wonsik’s work.

“Anyway, here they are! He did really well.” Hongbin sounds proud, so Wonsik plays the part of the good friend he is, and that Hongbin isn’t, and looks through the photos. They really are magazine grade quality and Wonsik doesn’t know if he should attribute that to Hongbin’s amazing photography skills or Taekwoon’s obvious affinity for modelling.

“Of course he did.” Wonsik says a little breathless, stopping at a photo where Taekwoon’s staring right at the camera, gaze piercing and seeming as if he’s looking through Wonsik’s entire being. “He’s gorgeous.”

“Is he now?” Hongbin’s voice rises playfully at the end, suggesting things Wonsik doesn’t feel like talking about right now.

“I don’t have to be crushing on someone to recognize beauty.”

“Except you _are_ crushing on him.”

“Please,” Wonsik refutes, “That’s like having a crush on you.” He finally tears his focus away from the photos and back to Hongbin, who’s facial expression is intolerable at the moment.

“Except you _did_ have a crush on me.”

Wonsik chooses to ignore Hongbin’s very true statement and tries to hand him back the folder. Hongbin shakes his head and pushes it away.

“You can keep them. I printed them for Hakyeon, but I have extras.”

“Uhm. Thanks?” Wonsik doesn’t know what he would do with the pictures, though, and just stuffs the folder into his bag. He’ll deal with them later. “Who’s Hakyeon?”

“What do you mean ‘Who’s Hakyeon’? He’s Woonie’s best friend.” Wonsik tries hard not to cringe at the nickname while he searches the “Information About Roommate Taekwoon” folder in his mind. Nothing about a best friend or a Hakyeon comes up and Wonsik frowns.

“Best friend?”

“He even came with him to the photoshoot. How do you not know this? You’re his roommate.” Hongbin sounds as exasperated as Wonsik feels incompetent. “Anyway, if Taekwoon finds the photos before you confess, just say that I gave them to you to give to him and you just forgot.”

“I’m not going to confess.”

 “Confess what?”

“That I like him.” Hongbin visibly perks up at that and Wonsik flinches. He knew the moment the words left his mouth that he said the wrong thing, that Hongbin would take his words and twist them to incriminate him in whichever way he chose. Wonsik figures Hongbin should just go into law if what he’s pursuing now doesn’t pan out. 

“So you _do_ like him! Now, was that so hard to admit?”

“I didn’t _admit_ anything.” Wonsik defends. Hongbin only quirks an eyebrow, his disbelief obvious.

Wonsik sags his shoulders. He could have this argument with Hongbin again, but he’s suddenly just so tired and maybe even a little disappointed in himself. He starts packing his things, oblivious to the look Hongbin’s giving him.

“Bin, I’m –”

“I know, I know. You’re leaving.” Hongbin stands up before pulling Wonsik into a tight hug. “Bye, bye lovebird. Go learn some shit about Taekwoon.”

 

[2]

It’s close to 10:30 when Wonsik gets a text from Taekwoon saying he’s headed home from practice. Wonsik’s planned on staying a little longer at the studio so he tells him not to wait up. What he doesn’t expect is Taekwoon showing up 30 minutes later with food and a blanket hanging off his shoulders.

“I know you haven’t eaten since you’ve been in here. And a ‘little longer’ always translates to five hours later. So, I came to keep you company and make sure you leave by midnight.” Wonsik raises a questioning eyebrow. “Hongbin’s orders.” And it all clicks into place. Except he didn’t know that Taekwoon and Hongbin had become such fast friends that they’re scheming together now.

“Since when were you two so buddy-buddy?”

“We aren’t.” Taekwoon says as he sets the food down next to Wonsik’s station. “I just ran into him when I was leaving practice and he asked about you. And then made me promise to do this or he would try out for the team again.” Wonsik’s stomach grumbles at the smell and he thinks despairingly how he doesn’t ever realize how hungry he is till presented with food.

“How was he, by the way? I never asked.”

“About as good as you’d suspect. He just kept trying to hit the ball with his head. Every time. Like some kind of kangaroo.” Taekwoon stretches himself across the couch, blanket now draped over himself, and crosses his arms over his eyes. Wonsik feels bad that he has to be here babysitting instead of home in his bed. This is usually about the time Taekwoon turns in since he has early morning workouts with his team right before his 9am class. But there’s still that bubbling in his chest that tells Wonsik he’s happy Taekwoon is here. That he’s not alone. And since he now has company, he can get a second opinion on what he’s working on. He’s got only about a minute finished, but it’s been hours at work and he’s eager for any advice. Because he still feels like there’s something he’s missing.

“Hey, Taekwoon?” Taekwoon hums so that Wonsik knows he’s listening, moving his arms down a bit to show his eyes. “Can you listen to this really quick? It’s just what I’ve been working on.”

Wonsik presses play and lets the composition fill the studio. He studies Taekwoon’s face as he listens and tries to interpret the emotions that flit across his stoic features.

When it’s finished, Wonsik holds his breath for Taekwoon to speak. He’s always nervous letting others listen to his unpolished work, but it’s usually worth it if he’s able to gain something in the end.

“It’s good.” Taekwoon says with a nod, and Wonsik exhales. However, Taekwoon has his finger in his mouth, which Wonsik has come to know means he’s contemplating. And he wouldn’t have to think so hard unless there was something wrong. Wonsik stops himself from deflating because this is exactly the reason he had Taekwoon listen in the first place. He’s stuck and he needs fresh ears.

“But, there’s still something off?”

“There’s still something off.” Taekwoon echoes as he sits up, bringing his hands together to rest beneath his chin. He stares at Wonsik’s computer for a moment, eyes squinting, before untangling himself from the blanket and coming to lean over Wonsik’s shoulder. “How about you switch the A melody with C? Since you open up so big, you hardly give anyone anything to look forward to. It starts with a bang and just kind of simmers out.”

It takes Wonsik a couple seconds to get over the way Taekwoon’s breaths roll over his ear before he registers what was said. But he thinks that might be it and inside he hopes that when he plays this back it sounds like exactly what he needs.

And it does. Especially when Taekwoon starts lowly humming random words to the melody and Wonsik probably shouldn’t stare so blatantly and in shock, but he’d never thought Taekwoon would be into singing.

“I didn’t know you sing.”

“I don’t.” Taekwoon denies before stepping away from Wonsik and sitting once again on the couch, leaning his head back and closing his eyes.

“You should.”

“Why? So you can feature me in all your songs?” It’s not a bad idea, Wonsik thinks. He sings all his demos, but he’s not a singer and he’s always wanted to have someone with a lighter voice layer over his instrumentals. He even thinks about how interesting the contrast between his and Taekwoon’s voices would be in a full song.

“You’d be good.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Taekwoon stretches a bit and settles deeper into the cushions. “Just switch the melodies and whatever else you need to do tonight. I want to go home.”

Wonsik frowns. “You can just go, yknow.”

“And have Hongbin at one of my practices?” Taekwoon raises his eyebrows, eyes still closed. “No thanks. The captain already thinks he’s hot.”

Turning back to his screen, Wonsik shrugs. “He _is_ hot.”

“Not the point.”

Wait. “Aren’t _you_ the captain?”

Taekwoon smiles. “ _Not_ the point.”

***

“Taekwoon thinks you’re hot.”

“Of course he does.” Wonsik tries to monitor Hongbin’s reaction over the rim of his textbook, but he seems particularly unbothered by the comment, not even glancing away from organizing his portfolio. “I’m Lee Hongbin. Master of beauty and grace and –”

“Modesty.” Wonsik finishes with a frown. He wonders how Hongbin has managed to keep his confidence being a freelance model. Aren’t photographers and editors supposed to make you feel like shit about your appearance all the time?

“Oh, Shikkie I’m sorry. Do you want Taekwoon to think you’re hot too?” Hongbin props his head on the back of his hand, finally looking at Wonsik with an air of mischief. “I can just ask him.”

“I’m good, thanks.” But Hongbin already has his phone out, fingers tapping away and completely disregarding Wonsik’s panicked whispers of protest.

“Woonie . . . do you think . . . that . . . Shikkie is hot? There done.” Hongbin sets his phone down and Wonsik hides his face in his hands, although he’s pretty sure Hongbin’s can still see how red he’s turning. “He’ll reply in like two seconds since he’s already seen it and he’s not like you who takes forever and always leaves me on read.”

“I don’t wanna know.” Wonsik mumbles into his hands. He really doesn’t.

“What if he says yes?”

Groaning, Wonsik lowers his hands to glare at Hongbin, but he isn’t even looking at him anymore, focus turned back to his portfolio.

“Then he says yes.” Wonsik settles. “It doesn’t mean anything.”

Hongbin shrugs, switches a couple photos around. “It means everything to you.”

Wonsik doesn’t get the chance to refute Hongbin’s statement because then his phone goes off and Wonsik’s feels his stomach drop. Hongbin’s eyes travel sideways to read the notification.

“Don’t tell –”

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“That’s what he said. Very curt.”

“Just because he thinks I’m hot doesn’t mean he likes me. He just appreciates –”

“Beauty.” Hongbin finishes mockingly. “Yeah, yeah whatever. I get it. At least you’ve got that because we both know he wouldn’t fall for your gentlemanlike ways. Maybe we should work on _that_.” He says, sparkle in his eyes at the thought of a new project.

“Or, maybe we should just drop it.” Wonsik dismisses. “I don’t like him anyway.”

“You can deny it now all you want, but your little puppy eyes and pouty lips says otherwise.” Then suddenly, very seriously, he adds, “Just don’t fall in love buddy.”

“With who? My roommate?” Wonsik knows that’s who Hongbin’s referring to, who he always refers to. But he’s just a bit tired of his best friend assuming things about feelings he’s not even sure about yet. “Please, Bin. That’s not going to happen.”

“Just don’t do it. Not with him.” Hongbin holds his gaze until their attention is drawn to Wonsik’s buzzing phone. “Speak of the devil. It’s him, isn’t it?” Wonsik nods, accepting the call.

“Taekwoon?”

“Are you busy?” Taekwoon asks with no preamble. Wonsik flicks his gaze to Hongbin.

“No. I’m not busy. What’s up?”

“Let’s go somewhere.”

“What?” Hongbin raises an eyebrow in question but Wonsik can only shrug, mouthing ‘ _I don’t know.’_ Taekwoon wants to go somewhere with him? Did he accidentally call the wrong person? They’ve never been anywhere together other than the corner store to pick up “groceries.”

“I wanted to go to the zoo because one of the new baby pandas are being shown today.”

“Uhm. Okay.” Taekwoon doesn’t speak, seemingly waiting for Wonsik to say something more…cohesive? But Wonsik is sure he never asked about Taekwoon’s plans today, so he doesn’t know why they’re having this conversation. “Uh?”

“Can you come with me?” Oh.

“Can I. . .” Wonsik’s brain short-circuits. He lowers his phone and stares at Hongbin, eyes wide. “He wants me to go with him to the zoo?”

“So, go?”

“I. . .” Wonsik’s brain still hasn’t recovered from the initial shock and he can’t manage an excuse to _not_ go. But, wrapping his mind around the stark randomness of it all is taking longer than he would like. It’s Tuesday. He didn’t know people even went to the zoo on Tuesdays. Wait, do they? Hongbin’s face offers no answers so Wonsik guesses he can just find out today. With Taekwoon. Together, like a kind of Indiana Jones movie, Wonsik thinks. No, that’s not the right movie, but he can’t really think straight now. He’ll figure it out later.

Wonsik brings the phone back to his ear, hands shaking. And he’s not sure if he’s speaking clearly but he guesses whatever he’s said has been understood because Taekwoon thanks him softly before disconnecting the call.

Wonsik pockets his phone, looking at Hongbin apologetically. “I’m sorry to leave so suddenly.” They still don’t get to meet often, but Wonsik’s roommate duty calls. He knows Taekwoon would do the same for him. He thinks. Maybe. He doesn’t actually know.

Hongbin waves away his apology, but Wonsik take stock of his tight smile and figures that there’s a lot he won’t say till he thinks Wonsik is ready to hear it.

Wonsik packs his things and squeezes Hongbin’s shoulder as he passes.  

Wonsik ignores Hongbin’s low mumble, unsure if he was even supposed to hear it at all. But it sounded like something along the lines of “falling in love with your roommate” and Wonsik doesn’t mind pretending Hongbin never said anything.

***

They’re on the line headed to the zoo and for once it’s not overcrowded. That’s mostly due to the fact that it’s 2pm on a Tuesday and a majority of responsible human beings are either at work or school, not going on some spur of the moment trip to the zoo. But Wonsik guesses it’s not that spontaneous for Taekwoon since he’d said the date with Hakyeon had been made in advance.

Taekwoon’s sitting beside Wonsik, showing none of the nervousness that Wonsik is feeling. He’s got his head against the window and is staring at the scenery as it passes. He looks so serene, and it confuses Wonsik how Taekwoon can be so calm even though he’s missing classes, missing practice. It’s then that Wonsik remembers he’s also going to miss is 2pm composition class and he curses softly. He hadn’t even thought of it before agreeing to this. Why didn’t Hongbin remind him before telling him to agree to this? _Why did he agree to this?_

“Wonsik.” Taekwoon is now standing in front of Wonsik, shaking his shoulder. “This is our stop.”

Wonsik lets Taekwoon lead him out of the station and the couple blocks it takes them to actually get to the zoo entrance. Wonsik panics for a moment at the ticket counter over whether or not he should pay for his own ticket – because it would feel weird to let Taekwoon pay for the both of them even though he is the older of the two – before Taekwoon pulls out the tickets and Wonsik remembers he’s just a fill in for Hakyeon, and that this trip was already planned and that this isn’t a date.

_Date?_

Not a date.

Wonsik feels a tugging at the hem of his shirt and focuses to see Taekwoon staring at him impatiently, other hand pointing to some place vaguely to the right. “C’mon. I want to see the baby pandas first.”

“Isn’t that on the other end? I saw a sign…” Wonsik whips his head around searching for the signs he saw coming in detailing where to find the baby pandas. Taekwoon pulls at his shirt again.

“I don’t know.”

“Shouldn’t we look at a map?” Wonsik feels a prickling of irritation rising and tries to stifle it because they’ve only just arrived, and it won’t do any good to be upset the entire time he’s here.

Taekwoon starts bouncing on the balls of his feet and shrugs. “What fun is that?”

“But,” Wonsik starts, pulling his shirt out of Taekwoon’s hand because his skin is starting to show due to all the movement. “If you want to see them first, then –”

“Sh. Just follow me. We’ll get there.” Taekwoon promises with a smile, grabs his wrist as they head down the tiger path, and Wonsik’s mild irritation dissipates just like that.

Wonsik gets goosebumps from the contact as he’s pulled not too gently this way and that. He doesn’t even register that they’ve gone down the left-most path instead of right-most path, which is actually where the pandas are. But Taekwoon didn’t lie, they do make it to the baby pandas. It’s just after they’ve seen every other creature in residence as well, Taekwoon leading the way, always with a hand around Wonsik’s wrist. He never lets go, simply switches hands when necessary. And Wonsik’s left wondering if this is how Taekwoon is with Hakyeon. With all his friends. Or with everyone he knows. Because he doesn’t know what to think when Taekwoon squeezes his hand out of excitement or when he buries his face in Wonsik’s shirt because the animals are “ _just too cute_ ” and he can’t handle it.

Taekwoon loves animals, that much is so obvious. And for some reason Wonsik gets the thought in his head that if he had the money, he’d buy Taekwoon all the animals in the world. He doesn’t know the logistics of that, or how they’d manage to take care of them all, but at this moment Wonsik doesn’t particularly care about reasoning. He just cares about keeping the smile on Taekwoon’s face because the way his eyes curl into tiny crescents and his cheeks puff up makes Wonsik’s heart clench and it doesn’t feel too unpleasant.

It’s not till they’re on their way home, Taekwoon’s phone now filled with hundreds of new photos and videos – of the animals, of Wonsik, of both of them – that Taekwoon’s high starts to wear off. He’s calm again, to Wonsik’s benefit because an active Taekwoon is a lot to keep up with, and his head is on Wonsik’s shoulder. Wonsik tries to be as still as a statue so he doesn’t disturb Taekwoon, even though he isn’t even sleeping. Wonsik just hopes his efforts will be appreciated. He’s looking along with Taekwoon as he sifts through all the photos and his stomach flutters when Taekwoon stops at one of them both.

They’re crouching in front of the baby pandas and Taekwoon is looking at the camera, smile big and eyes small, pointing to the small animal over his shoulder. But Wonsik, oblivious to the camera, is just staring at Taekwoon. And Wonsik knows himself enough to know the emotions splattered clear across his face and it makes his chest ache. Wonsik didn’t ask for this, doesn’t even know how it happened. But he knows that sometime between now and when he first met Taekwoon, that tiny flash of attraction became just a tiny bit more.

 _“Just don’t fall in love buddy,”_ Hongbin had said.

Wonsik watches Taekwoon swipe through the rest of his pictures and tries not to think about what it is Hongbin knows about Taekwoon that he doesn’t. But maybe it won’t matter that much because in eight months’ time he and Taekwoon won’t be roommates anymore and his tiny little crush will just be history.

He’s jerked out of his thoughts when Taekwoon grabs his hand and laces their fingers together.

“Thank you for coming with me.” For a moment Wonsik doesn’t know what to say when Taekwoon looks up at him sleepily, face full of gratitude. But he relents, squeezes Taekwoon’s hand and smiles.

“You’re welcome.”

 

[3]

Usually when he’s working, Wonsik is accompanied by a silence that’s welcomed and appreciated, comforting like a hug. But today – or tonight, in the studio he can never tell, and he refuses to check the time – Wonsik can’t function beyond the suffocating blankness that’s cloaked his thoughts, restricting his creative flow.

And he doesn’t know why or how long he’s been simply staring at the wall, but he can’t get himself to stop or move or do anything other than breathe. And stare. 

College is just hard, he decides.

It’s a thought he lets sit with him in the silence, since it seems to be the only one he’s allowed access to at the moment. College is hard, Wonsik muses, because he’s here for all the wrong reasons. No, that doesn’t make any sense because Wonsik is doing what he’s always wanted to do – he’s making music. For a grade, but music nonetheless. That’s not it.

It’s hard because he misses home. He misses his mom’s cooking and teasing his younger sister. Except he goes home often and his sister messages him every day. His mom even sends him care packages every month, always including a short note from his father because the man doesn’t take a particular liking to modern technology. So, that’s not it either.

Wonsik rests his elbows on his knees, brings his hands just underneath his chin and signs. He’s in a slump and he’s just got to accept it. Does he really need an explanation to why his brain decided to short-circuit randomly on him? He doesn’t.

But Wonsik also doesn’t want the last few hours of his life to seem like they’ve gone to waste, so he picks up his lyric book, opens to a page that’s already been written on and . . . he groans, head lowering till he’s made contact with the desk and he sighs. He just can’t keep himself from making the small noises of frustration. _College is_ _hard_.

“What are you trying to get at, brain?” Wonsik mutters lowly and lets his arms fall to hang by his side defeatedly, his fingertips almost touching the ground from both the low set of his chair and his slumped position. “Just tell me so we can work past this together, yes? Yknow, as a team? You and me. We’re supposed to be in this thing together. Stop blocking me, you piece of shit.” Wonsik cringes at his rudeness and apologizes to himself. This wasn’t a time to be rude, even to a mind that wouldn’t do what he wanted.

“Maybe I should call it a night,” Wonsik mumbles.

“I agree.” It’s almost comical the way Wonsik jumps when he hears Taekwoon’s voice, soft but still enough to jar the silence that’s settled in the room.  Wonsik turns to see him leaning in the doorway, hands tucked away into his pockets and face slightly hidden by the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“What are you doing here?”

“Retrieving you.” Taekwoon says, reminding Wonsik of the last time this happened.

“Hongbin’s orders?” Taekwoon grunts at his question, neither confirming nor denying the accusation in Wonsik’s voice. Instead of answering, he stretches his arms above his head and yawns. Wonsik watches the way Taekwoon’s fingers curl and the small O his mouth makes around the yawn. Everything in Wonsik is screaming at him to take Taekwoon and tuck him into bed, nice and warm and place a gentle kiss on his forehead. He figures that’s probably a common response everyone has to seeing Taekwoon sleepy and soft.

“Wonsik, do you know what time it is?” Wonsik blinks, torn out of his daze and shakes his head. His phone is buried somewhere beneath all the papers strewn across his work station. “It’s past 3am.” Taekwoon offers before Wonsik finds the phone and confirms, a low curse escaping his lips. He has a 9am tomorrow, but he reasons – working to not send himself into a panic – that he’s done much more on less sleep.

“Did you –”

“I couldn’t really sleep.” Taekwoon says, dismissing Wonsik’s worries that he had stayed up waiting for him. “I got up and saw that you weren’t home and put two and two together from earlier when you said you’d be here.” Wonsik’s heart does a little skip as he thinks about Taekwoon worrying about him. But he tells himself that worrying about a roommate is normal. He worried about Hongbin all the time when they were roommates. It comes with the arrangement. “You’re always here.”

“Or with Hongbin.”

“Yeah.”

“You didn’t have to come.”

“Well, I’m here now so it doesn’t really matter much. But, I would like to get back home now.” Wonsik realizes that’s his queue to start packing his things.  It doesn’t take long for him to shut down the computer and grab his stuff and when he’s ready he just stares at Taekwoon waiting for him by the door.

Wonsik’s broken out of his trance when Taekwoon turns, walking into the hallway and leaving Wonsik to turn off the light and lock the door.

“What were you working on?” Taekwoon asks as they fall into step beside each other. Wonsik is both thankful and disappointed that the hallway is wide enough to keep their arms from accidentally bumping.

“Nothing.” He answers truthfully, fatigue finally making its way into his speech.

“Was it a song about me?” Taekwoon glances sideways at him, voice laced with amusement Wonsik is way too tired to combat. “Hongbin told me about the…sweat thing.”

“Sweat thing? What sweat –” Wonsik’s eyes widen when the memory comes back to him. “Oh my god I’m gonna kill him.” He doesn’t sound very menacing between his yawns and slurring. Taekwoon doesn’t think so either if the smile on his face is anything to go by. “That was all his idea.”

“I’d like to hear it one day.” Taekwoon says, elbow coming out slightly to bump Wonsik.

Wonsik shakes his head violently, a bad idea since his vision blurs. “It’s _not_ happening.” He staggers a little to the left and Taekwoon grabs his arm to keep him from falling, fingers wrapped securely around Wonsik’s upper arm. His hand feels nice, warm. Wonsik is sure he’s smiling stupidly, but he can just blame it on the exhaustion later when he’s more coherent, and if Taekwoon asks about it.

“Maybe I could write something about you and it be a duet.” Taekwoon jokes, leading them out the building and into the frigid outside air.

 _“It’s not happening._ ” At this point, Wonsik can barely keep his eyes open. His tiredness mixed with the biting wind just makes him want to curl into a ball and never unwind.

He’s completely shameless when he presses into Taekwoon, flushes when Taekwoon wraps his arms around him to bring him closer. Wonsik forgot his jacket in the studio and Taekwoon is just so warm. Warm all the way home, till he’s tucked into his bed and Taekwoon turns off his light.

***

Despite having been roommates for three months, Wonsik realizes that he’s actually never seen Taekwoon sweaty. Until now. And it’s not what he expected when he walked out of his room still half asleep and craving coffee. Taekwoon’s in the kitchen chugging a glass of water, clearly just back from his weekend morning run that Wonsik is never awake early enough for. Taekwoon’s usually already showered and lounging on their couch by the time Wonsik deems himself human enough to navigate out of bed.

Wonsik is staring unabashedly, he knows he is, and it’s a good thing Taekwoon is turned slightly away from him so he isn’t caught. Because that would be embarrassing, Wonsik thinks, to be caught ogling your very hot, very sweaty roommate. And Wonsik decides at that moment that, yes, Taekwoon is not only gorgeously beautiful, but he’s absolutely fucking sexy as well. Which annoys him because it means he’s going to now have to deal with five more months of living with someone he is now physically attracted to. Wonsik could deal with gorgeous and beautiful, Hongbin is a goddamn model for heaven’s sake. But Hongbin, even sweaty, never made Wonsik’s throat feel like it’d crack if he didn’t get drink something soon. Hongbin didn’t make Wonsik want to lick beads of sweat that ran down his neck. Hongbin didn’t make Wonsik want to fuck him. Plain and simple. But looking at Taekwoon, Wonsik feels all those things and more and Hongbin’s voice plays in the back of his mind.

_I wonder how he looks naked._

Wonsik swallows hard, just as Taekwoon flicks his eyes to the side and sees him. Wonsik waves lamely and turns toward the refrigerator, intent on avoiding his gaze and hoping to cool his very heated face.

“Did I wake too early or did you get a late start today?” Wonsik hopes that he sounds normal enough, that the residual grogginess from having just awakened masks anything in his voice that could betray him to his roommate. _It’s just a crush,_ he thinks over and over, _just a crush._ He grabs the cream for his coffee before moving to let the refrigerator close. But, Wonsik’s back makes contact with something much too solid to be just the air he knew should be behind him, and he feels a hand on settle on his waist.

Wonsik knows who to expect, but it still takes his breath away to have Taekwoon so close, so warm, and so goddamn _sweaty_.

“A bit of both.” Taekwoon speaks right into Wonsik’s ear, leaning into him slightly to grab the coffee cream out of his hands and place it on the counter. Wonsik’s body heats up everywhere he and Taekwoon make contact and the feeling is too much for him. It’s also too damn early in the morning, he thinks. He hasn’t even had his morning coffee yet. Wonsik makes a small noise and reaches for the stolen cream before Taekwoon swats at his hand. “I already brewed a batch.” Taekwoon is practically purring in Wonsik’s ear at this point, puffs of air ghosting across Wonsik’s neck to make him shiver, but the hand at his waist steadily keeping him grounded. This is the most he and Taekwoon have ever touched at one time and the thought is overwhelming. _It’s too much. He’s too close._

Wonsik tilts his head a bit away from Taekwoon to relieve the sensation and takes notice of the coffee maker indeed filled with freshly brewed coffee. Smiling, Taekwoon pokes a hand at the crease between Wonsik’s eyebrows, obviously amused with Wonsik’s wide eyes and confused expression.

“I hoped it wouldn’t be cold by the time you woke up.”

Wonsik tries his best not to let too much emotion leak into his words as he lets out a soft, “Thank you.” Taekwoon chuckles in response and runs a finger through Wonsik’s messy fringe before finally taking a step back. Finally letting Wonsik breathe properly again.

“You’re welcome. I’m gonna go shower.”

It’s only as Wonsik is looking at him walking away that he realizes Taekwoon had been shirtless the entire time.

“Fuck, it’s too early for this.”

Turning back to the counter, Wonsik makes his coffee, grumbling to himself all the while – about Taekwoon, about Hongbin, about himself and his stupid feelings – before going to settle on the couch for his morning cartoons. He’s halfway through his mug and another episode of Pororo is starting when Taekwoon makes another appearance, fully clothed this time in plain sweats and a tank, which Wonsik is incredibly thankful for he almost prays into his coffee.

Taekwoon sits himself on the opposite side of the couch before stretching his legs out to rest in Wonsik’s lap. Wonsik lets him because, well, he’s always admired Taekwoon’s soccer legs from afar and the weight feels comforting and he wouldn’t know what to say otherwise if he did push them off. It’s such a platonic act he’s done so many times with Hongbin, so this shouldn’t be a problem. He shouldn’t feel like his heart is trying to jump out of his chest.

Except he almost drops his coffee when, without speaking, Taekwoon reaches for his hand only to place it on his calf. Wonsik is confused until Taekwoon takes his hand and moves it in circular motions, kneading the muscles and it clicks in Wonsik’s head.

“Massage?” He asks softly.

Taekwoon hums in response and closes his eyes, leaning further into the couch.

And that’s how Wonsik spends his morning: Sipping coffee, watching cartoons, and massaging Taekwoon to sleep on their couch.

It’s almost too perfect.

***

“Do crushes usually last this long?”

“No, Shik, they don’t.”

“Fuck.”

Hongbin just sighs, but Wonsik hears everything his best friend isn’t saying. Mostly it’s the ‘ _I told you so_ ’ that repeats over and over.


	2. Months 18-30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The many times Wonsik figures he’s in love with his roommate. Because there’s a lot. But Wonsik tells himself that a crush won’t last for eight months. 
> 
> I mean, he’s not wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My University's first day of school is today!! So think of this as a going-back-to-school present (even tho a lot of you guys are probably already back- mine just starts really late)!!
> 
> Once again thank you K and J for getting me through these scenes <3

 

[4]

“Wonsik-ah. Wonsik-ah, wake up.” Everything is screaming at Wonsik to ignore the little worm in his ear trying to tell him to wake up before his alarm.

“Wonsik-ah…”

“I'm sleeping.” He tries to turn around hoping maybe the worm will fall out and leave him in peace but it just keeps talking and he's getting irritated and dammit now he's awake.

“I want to go to the ocean.”

A glance at his alarm clock has Wonsik groaning into his pillow. “Taek, it’s…2 in the morning.”

“Please?” And it's low, soft, with just enough anxiety in it to have Wonsik open his eyes and look at Taekwoon. Wonsik can barely see him in the darkness, but the light from his clock casts a small glow over Taekwoon’s face. His eyes are downcast and his teeth are nibbling at his lower lip. Wonsik remembers him heading to his room earlier than usual.

“Fine.” Wonsik sighs into any regret he thinks might come from this in the later morning and rolls out of bed. He sees that Taekwoon is already dressed, or maybe he just never undressed from the previous day. Wonsik is helped into a pair of jeans and a hand brushes through his hair so that it's presentable. Blinking through the sleepiness, Wonsik appreciates Taekwoon's quietness now since he feels like any sound they make louder than their whispers would split his head open.

By the door, Taekwoon helps him into his shoes, too, Wonsik’s arms draped over his shoulders as he wiggles his feet. It always takes a while for him to fully awaken, especially when pulled out of a deep sleep so unexpectedly. But since Taekwoon does it so often, they’ve developed a good routine.

“Taek, grab a –” but he's already out the door before Wonsik can finish his nagging and he just sighs, reaching for Taekwoon's jacket along with his own before he follows.

The only light outside comes from the streetlights as Wonsik tries to match Taekwoon’s much too energetic strides. He’s tired, but even under his haze he still thinks that nights with Taekwoon are better than anything else his imagination could conjure up. He likes that Taekwoon gets much more talkative, more adventurous, more…

clingy.

“It’s cold.” Wonsik isn’t fazed when Taekwoon loops himself around his arm and buries his face in his neck. He’d run his hands through Taekwoon’s hair like usual, but that would require him taking his hand out of the warmth of his pocket so Wonsik doesn’t think the urge is worth it. The beach isn't too far comparatively, but it's not close either, about a twenty-five-minute walk from their apartment. On normal days and at a normal time it would be a piece of cake, but right now it’s the middle of the night and it’s colder than their usual spring weather and Wonsik maybe hates Taekwoon's midnight whims a bit more now than he ever has before.

“Then aren’t you grateful I brought your jacket?”

Taekwoon’s hair tickles his chin as he nods. “You would’ve just let me use yours.” Wonsik’s bark of laughter disturbs the quiet atmosphere as they walk on. He almost feels as if he destroyed the world they built around themselves as they reach the beach. He brings his arm out to wrap around Taekwoon’s shoulder and presses his cheek to the top of his head.

“You’re right.”

 “Such a gentleman.” Taekwoon pulls away, stares at Wonsik for a moment and walks ahead, steps hurried with barely concealed excitement as their feet finally hit sand.

Wonsik only lets him get about a foot away before frowning and kicking his foot. “I kind of hate sand.” Taekwoon’s face is a perfect portrait of childish impatience when he turns back, big eyes and wide smile.

“Can we swim?”

“Not this time, Taek, no.” It almost hurts seeing his expression crumple, but Wonsik has his reasons for saying no and he’s sticking to them. “It’s too cold and you know…you get sick easily.” Wonsik's speech is broken with a yawn, but he hopes he sounded convincing because he's not nearly awake enough to wrestle Taekwoon to stop him from stripping and running into the ocean like a toddler. As he has done before. Many times.

Wonsik is hit with a full body shiver and Taekwoon tears his eyes away from the water to glance at him. There’s an apology in his eyes before it softens into something else Wonsik guesses only comes from being near the ocean before dawn with your best friend.

“Let's make a sandcastle.”

“I hate sand.”

“You didn’t have to come.” Wonsik stares at Taekwoon for two seconds. This isn't anything new; Taekwoon asks to go somewhere and Wonsik goes along with him. Wonsik doesn't know exactly why Taekwoon asks him all the time or what he’s looking for in his company. He just knows that Taekwoon never complains and Wonsik never says no. Taekwoon knows this too and he just likes to mess with Wonsik. All the time. He says things that confuse Wonsik and asks questions he already knows the answers to and then it's Wonsik's turn to get quiet. And Taekwoon always moves on with a knowing smile that even after almost a year and a half Wonsik still hasn’t figured out.

Already Taekwoon has squatted down and is turning over the sand in his hand. Wonsik thinks about how youthful he looks in the moment, eyes focused, lips slightly curved upwards, hair blowing softly. Wonsik doesn’t know how or when Taekwoon became so beautiful.

“I’ve never made a sandcastle before.”

“I think we need water.” Taekwoon looks at Wonsik expectantly, then at the ocean, and back at Wonsik again. Wonsik shakes his head slowly. He’s not letting Taekwoon get anywhere near the water tonight.  

Taekwoon only deflates a little as Wonsik looks around for something he'd be able to carry the water back with. Of course, there’s absolutely nothing and he’s resigned to move their sandcastle headquarters to the shoreline for easy water access. Taekwoon doesn’t complain, practically skipping to a spot he deems a perfect base for them to work. He’s just happy they’ll get wet. For all his love of water, Wonsik wonders why Taekwoon doesn’t do swimming instead.

After gods know how long, they finally accept that their ambitions were much too high for their nonexistent skill in sandcastle building.

“It looks more like a snowman.”

“It’s supposed to be that leaning tower.”

“It’s definitely leaning.” Wonsik plops down next to the leaning snowman and runs his hand through the sand. They’re both wet up to the waist and Wonsik is sure he has sand in places he doesn’t want to think about. He leans back on his elbows and closes his eyes, chasing the tail end of his exhaustion. He hears the distinct shutter of a phone camera going off and just resolves himself to ask Taekwoon to see the pic later. Taekwoon has an entire folder of candid photos of Wonsik now that he lets Wonsik sift through every once in a while. It’s almost at 500 pics and Wonsik asks him why, but Taekwoon simply says that Wonsik is nice to photograph.

It’s Taekwoon’s yawn that has Wonsik suggesting they head home. Taekwoon doesn’t want to wait on Wonsik to finish showering so he joins him, heavy limbs and all. Wonsik has to help Taekwoon wash because Taekwoon can barely hold the soap in his hand much less keep his eyes open.

Wonsik towels them both off when they’re done, finds clothes to dress Taekwoon in, leads him to his own bed because Taekwoon doesn’t want to let him go. Something about it being too cold for Taekwoon to sleep alone reaches Wonsik’s ears and he gives in easily.

Sleeping with Taekwoon is always much too warm and much too crowded, but it’s Wonsik’s favorite way to sleep.

Taekwoon’s whispered goodnight is cut off with a small sneeze and Wonsik is torn between being absolutely disgusted that his chest is covered in Taekwoon’s germs or terribly soft because it was the cutest sound he’d ever heard in his entire life.

Taekwoon has always been adorable to Wonsik.

…

All traces of adorableness have vanished when Wonsik wakes up next to the burning, whining mass of sickness that is Taekwoon.

“It hurts. My head hurts.” Taekwoon is curled into a ball, hands holding his head and eyes clenched tight. Wonsik’s heart rate picks up immediately.

“Oh gods, what happened?” He tries to pull Taekwoon’s hands away from where they’re making indents in his forehead

“Sh. It _hurts_.” Wonsik places the back of his hand to Taekwoon’s skin, not because he thinks he knows what he’s doing, but just because he’s seen it on tv so many times. Taekwoon’s warm – too warm – and his skin is clammy and feels like how Wonsik’s does after a long night of drinking.

“Oh shit. You’re sick.” Even in sickness, Taekwoon’s glare makes Wonsik flinch. “Sorry. I’m sorry. Uhm. Okay. It’s gonna be fine. I’m – I’ll go call,” Wonsik flounders around in the bed for a moment, mirroring the chaos in his mind as he tries to not panic too much because he doesn’t know what to do. “I’ll call Hongbin.” He decides once he’s untangled his legs from the sheets and has his phone in hand. But even then, he can’t get his fingers to work, so he stares at the screen for a good five seconds. Taekwoon’s groan is what pulls Wonsik back into action. “Hongbin, yea. Okay.”

“Stop. Talking.”

“Okay.” Wonsik doesn’t want to leave the room to make the phone call because that would mean not being able to keep an eye on Taekwoon. But Wonsik can tell that even just slight noises are making Taekwoon’s face contort in pain. The phone call will barely last a minute, he tells himself as he leaves the room. Nothing’s going to happen in less than a minute.

Hongbin doesn’t pick up till the third ring, by which at that point, Wonsik’s panic levels had reached an unprecedented point. So, ripping a page from Hongbin’s book, Wonsik gets right to the point as soon as he’s sure he’s got Hongbin on the other end and not an automated voicemail.

“Taekwoon is sick.”

“And?” Hongbin sounds bored and impatient and Wonsik wants to pull his hair out for a second.

“You gotta help me!”

“Just make a soup and get some medicine.” Hongbin says it like it’s just that simple. 

“What kind of soup? What type of medicine?”

“Have you never been sick before? Gods, Wonsik. Just call Hakyeon. I’m busy.” Hongbin disconnects the call and Wonsik nearly screams in frustration before dialing up the only other person he knows will actually help him. Unlike Hongbin, Hakyeon picks up on the first ring.

“Taekwoon is sick.”

“I’m on my way.”

About twenty minutes later, Hakyeon arrives and Wonsik would run and kiss him if he wasn’t cradling Taekwoon head in his lap and dabbing at his forehead with a wet cloth. He’d looked that up on the internet. Wonsik puts a finger to his mouth to signal Hakyeon to be as quiet as possible. A true feat when he notices the plastic bags in Hakyeon’s hands.

“What’s that?” Wonsik whispers, despite knowing that Taekwoon has already fallen back asleep. But his constant twitching makes Wonsik want to be as cautious as possible.

“Medicine and ingredients for my mom’s soup she always made when I got sick.”

“You’re gonna make sick soup?”

“I wasn’t going to let you poison Woonie when he’s already on his death bed.”

“I’m not dying.” Hakyeon smiles softly and ruffles Taekwoon’s hair. Taekwoon practically melts into Wonsik’s lap at the touch, eyes still closed.

“That’s because I’m here now. Saving your life and whatnot.” Taekwoon makes a throaty noise before being hit by a fit of coughing. Wonsik rubs circles into his back, looks at Hakyeon frantically.

“I’ll go make the soup.” Before Hakyeon leaves the room, he tells Wonsik the instructions for giving Taekwoon the medicine.

“Thank you.” Wonsik doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Hakyeon hadn’t shown. Maybe just sat on the bed all day panicking, letting Taekwoon go hungry and stay feverish.

“Woonie. Taekwoon-ah.” Wonsik nudges Taekwoon, trying to get him to sit up, or at least open his eyes. Taekwoon makes a sound of clear defiance and turns his face into Wonsik’s stomach. The contact, even through the fabric of his shirt, is much too warm for comfort. “No. Stop it.” He pushes Taekwoon back a bit. “You have to take this medicine. You’re burning hot.”

“ _You’re_ hot.” Taekwoon slurs as he finally, thankfully, moves so that he’s in an upright position across from Wonsik.

“That’s because I’ve been under you all morning.” With half his body now freed, Wonsik reaches over to the nightstand to grab the medicine and spoon Hakyeon left with him. But then he feels Taekwoon’s hands on his stomach and he nearly drops it.

“No. _Hot_ hot.” Taekwoon runs a warm hand down Wonsik’s front and chuckles. Wonsik sighs. This must be the fever brain taking over, making Taekwoon touchier than usual, more eager for affection, and spewing nonsense.

Wonsik manages to get some medicine on the spoon and holds it in front of Taekwoon, careful to not let any spill on the bed.

“Can you just take this? Please?” Taekwoon, of course, ignores him, opting to lift Wonsik’s shirt instead. The sudden burst of cold air makes Wonsik inhale sharply. Taekwoon’s hands burn where he makes contact.

“When did you get abs?” Taekwoon licks his lips. “Hot.”

“Oh-kay.” With his free hand, Wonsik pushes his shirt back down and takes hold of both Taekwoon’s so that they can stop wandering. Again he positions the spoon in front of Taekwoon’s mouth. “Open.” He listens almost immediately this time, letting Wonsik feed him the medicine. “Good. Thank you.” Wonsik pats Taekwoon’s cheek softly before putting the spoon back on the nightstand.

“Shik.”

“Hm?”

“Lie back down.” Taekwoon slumps against Wonsik to enforce his request, and Wonsik has no choice but to comply. He wraps an arm around Taekwoon as he goes down, letting Taekwoon’s head rest on his chest.

Taekwoon stopped twitching a while ago and Wonsik takes that as a good sign. And he’s started to smell Hakyeon’s soup in the air which makes his stomach growl. A look at the clock lets him know that it’s been two hours since he’s woken up.

“Shik?”

“Hm?”

“If a dragon and a cow had babies, what do you think they’d look like?”

“Haven’t you seen Shrek?” Wonsik knows for a fact Taekwoon’s seen all four Shrek movies because they had a marathon of the series together sometime two semesters ago.

“That was a donkey. I said a cow.”

“Same difference.”

“No.” Taekwoon whines, a finger weakly poking at Wonsik’s side.

“Fine. Uhm. It would be black and white and have wings.”

Taekwoon looks up at Wonsik through his eyelashes. “But would it look more like a donkey or a dragon.”

Wonsik shrugs. “Both? Isn’t that how genes work?”

‘It depends on which animal has the stronger genes.”

“Well, which has the stronger genes?”

“I don’t know.” Taekwoon seems to lose his energy again, letting his head fall back into Wonsik’s chest. “Google it.”

“You asked. You google it.”

“But I’m sick.” Taekwoon whimpers and Wonsik laughs lightly.

“If you can think up all this then you can type it into your phone.”

“But I’m so weak.” The words are mumbled into Wonsik’s shirt and he knows at this point Taekwoon is just playing it up in order to be pampered. He loved being taken care of.

Wonsik tilts Taekwoon’s chin up so that he can look into his eyes. “You’re such a baby.” He says before touching their foreheads together. His chest tightens when he hears Taekwoon sigh.

“Soup for the baby.” Wonsik starts at Hakyeon’s voice, pulling back a little. But Taekwoon just follows until he flush against him once more. Sick Taekwoon is much like 2am restless – and reckless – Taekwoon, Wonsik realizes.

Hakyeon walks to the side of the bed and places the soup on the nightstand, much like how he did with the medicine earlier. He looks at Wonsik.

“I’ll just leave this here. There’s more in the pot on the stove. Make sure not to leave it out overnight.” Hakyeon then turns to Taekwoon, places the back of his hand against his forehead. “His fever has gone down. I’m going now.” He says to no one in particular.

“Wait, Hakyeon –”

“You don’t need me here, Shikkie.” Hakyeon glances at Taekwoon. “You’ve got this.”

“But what about –”

“There’s nothing more. He only has a cold. He’s just gotta sweat it out. He’s not dying.”

“Yes I am.” Taekwoon mumbles and Wonsik’s arm tightens around him.

“No you aren’t. And stop smothering Wonsik. You’ll get him sick too.” Hakyeon’s right, but Wonsik hadn’t even given it a thought that being this close with Taekwoon all day would most likely land him in the same position a couple days from now.

“S’not smothering.”

Wonsik definitely begs to differ. But that’s not the main problem right now. If Hakyeon leaves then he’ll really be on his own to make sure Taekwoon doesn’t die. Wonsik doesn’t like those odds.

“You’re just gonna let me kill your best friend?” He pleads at Hakyeon in hopes that it will make him stay. He’s pouring all his desperation into his eyes. He can almost see the moment Hakyeon wavers.

“You won’t kill him.” Hakyeon protests, clearly exasperated with the pair. “He’s _not dying_. Why are you both so dramatic?” Wonsik watches Hakyeon’s shoulders sag before he comes to whisper in his ear. “Trust me, I wouldn’t be leaving if I didn’t think Woonie was in good hands. I know how much you care about him. Everything will be fine.”

With that Hakyeon turns to make his exit, leaving Wonsik with as much confidence as he had before Hakyeon walked in the door.

“Eat the soup, Taekwoon.” Hakyeon calls out before closing the room door behind himself.

“Please don’t let me die, Wonsik.”

Wonsik gently pushes Taekwoon from atop him so that he falls onto the bed.

“Shut up.”

 

[5]

Two weeks later and Wonsik finds himself sneezing uncontrollably in a field of wildflowers. Taekwoon knows he's allergic to pollen. He himself knows he's allergic to pollen. The universe also knows that Wonsik is _allergic to pollen_. Yet, here he is lying on his back with Taekwoon at his side smiling dreamily at the sky with the most serene smile Wonsik has seen on him in a while. And it kind of makes it worth it, kind of makes it okay that Wonsik has felt like he's been dying for the past hour or so. Wonsik somehow has reasoned with himself that clogged sinuses are a sufficient payment for a happy Taekwoon. Somehow.

“What do you think it’s like?”

“What?”

“Being a cloud? I think it would be nice, but also scary.”

“Scary?” Wonsik isn't sure his speech is even decipherable at the moment, but he guesses that Taekwoon isn't listening all too much anyway.

“Do they know where they’re going?”

Wonsik could respond, except nothing he says in these moments ever feel right and he thinks his rough voice would just ruin the atmosphere. So, he watches Taekwoon watch the clouds pass by overhead and he tries to hold in as many sniffles as possible.

“That one kind of looks like a dove.”

“Which one?”

“There.”

“I don't see it.”

“Look at it from the side. Like this.” Taekwoon touches his chin and pushes it slightly to the right.

“Still don't see it.”

Taekwoon makes a huffing sound and Wonsik really tries not to laugh. “That's ‘cause you have the eyesight of a bat.”

“Don't bats have really good eyesight?”

“No.”

“I'm pretty sure they do.”

“Not today. Not you. You are the exception.” With the start of each sentence comes a poke to Wonsik's left side, so he grabs the offending hand, pulling Taekwoon in until he's flush against his chest, hair tickling his chin.

“I'm the exception?”

“Yeah. You're gonna be the one bat that can't see.”

“Okay, Taek.” Taekwoon maneuvers himself until he's comfortable against Wonsik and they're silent again, save for the occasional sniffle that can't be held back. But Wonsik can’t stay comfortably quiet for as long as Taekwoon can.

“What would be my bat name?” He asks to break the silence.

“Silly Bat Who Can't See.”

“Why so long? Why not just Silly Blind Bat?”

“Because I want you to be Silly Bat Who Can't See.” The whine in Taekwoon's voice is endearing and might be a sign that Taekwoon is getting sleepy. Wonsik likes when Taekwoon's soft voice slurs a bit with exhaustion and when they're close enough that his breath bounces off Wonsik's collarbones. He thinks it's comforting and in moments like these he wants to keep Taekwoon as close as possible for as long as he can.

“But I want to be Silly Blind Bat.”

“Bats don't name themselves.”

“Says who?” Taekwoon pushes away with an exasperated sigh, but he's smiling and they’re still holding hands so Wonsik knows he’s not too annoyed. Irritating Taekwoon is a rare form of amusement he gets to take pleasure in.

“They can't talk, Wonsik.”

“Says who?”

“Have you ever talked to a bat?”

“No, but –” Taekwoon stands fully, pulling Wonsik from his lying position into a sitting one.

“Then hush Silly Blind Bat.”

“You just –”

“I said hush.” Taekwoon finally drops Wonsik's hand, moves away to busy himself picking flowers and after watching him for a moment Wonsik lies down again, allergies be damned. He watches the clouds briefly, finally seeing the dove Taekwoon mentioned, before closing his eyes. Maybe if he sleeps, hoping he doesn’t die or anything from too much pollen inhalation, he can stave off some of the irritation until Taekwoon is ready to leave.

He doesn't know how long it’s been before he feels himself being shaken back to consciousness. There's a hand softly running through his hair and Wonsik hums appreciatively before sitting. It's gotten darker, the sunset a dramatic background behind his figure. The warm colors complement him well, Wonsik thinks. If he was a painter or photographer or anything he thinks he could appreciate this moment just a little more than he does now. Taekwoon stays silent, letting him adjust to being awake again. Or maybe he's just enjoying the silence.

There's still a hand in his hair and it makes Wonsik smile, but also makes him sleepier. It stops momentarily before he feels a different weight on his head. He narrows his eyes at Taekwoon before inspecting the mysterious object.

“You made a flower crown? How long was I out?”

“It looks good on you.” Taekwoon reaches up to adjust it better before shuffling back, Wonsik guesses, to admire his work. Their eyes meet and Wonsik strikes a pose for good measure, and also just to see Taekwoon's eyes crinkle and hear his quiet laugh.

Still crouched, Taekwoon waddles back to Wonsik who doesn't understand how he can make such movements look so graceful despite his long limbs. Taekwoon comes close, but just so he can touch a finger to one of Wonsik's eyelids lightly. They're no doubt red and alarming after spending so long in the field.

“Will you have a serious allergic reaction?”

“I've stayed this long, haven't I?”

Taekwoon nods once before standing up and holding out both hands.

“Let's go home now.”

Wonsik tries not to think of the tooth rotting cliché attached to Taekwoon's words and takes his hands to help himself up, careful to not let the flower crown fall.

…

“Let me make sure I have this right. You spent _all_ damn day in a fucking _field_ of flowers even though you’re _allergic to pollen_ , and now you have a full body _skin rash_.” Hongbin paces in front of Wonsik as he buries himself further into the cushions on his sofa. If he had known Hongbin would scold him, he wouldn’t have asked him to come over. “And you didn’t think this would be a problem _before_ you agreed to go traipsing through Lalaland with heart eyes for your roommate?”

Wonsik flinches at Hongbin’s harshness. “He asked to go.”

 “Oh. So, now big bad Wonsik can’t say no?” Hongbin stops, arms crossed in disbelief.

“It’s not like that.” Wonsik says softly, though that’s exactly what the problem is. He can’t say no to Taekwoon, never could.

“Tell me how it’s _really_ like then.” Hongbin is clearly exasperated with him, but with practice he’s learned that staying calm is the only way to get through to Wonsik.

“He needs these trips.”

“He can go by himself.” Hongbin’s face softens as he sits on the coffee table. “Since, when did he need you to hold his hand?”

“It’s not like that.” Wonsik repeats because he doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know how he can defend himself for doing something so stupid.

Hongbin shakes his head. “I told you not to do this, Shik.”

Wonsik carefully repositions his body so that he’s facing the ceiling, no longer able to see Hongbin’s look of disappointment and pity. “Do what?” He knows exactly what Hongbin is talking about, but there’s nothing he can do about it now. There hasn’t been a way out for a long time. Wonsik closes his eyes and sighs, lets the physical irritation mix with his emotional heartache and retreats into himself.

“You can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

He could say that, but then he’d be lying.

 

[6]

Wonsik eyes the composition he's been working on for the past three weeks. The notes are all wrong and the melody doesn’t match perfectly with the rhythm that's in his head, but he just can't figure it out and it's frustrating him more than ever. It’s the only thought that plays in his head over and over.

This is all so damn frustrating.

Midterms are next week and Wonsik has been feeling the pressure for the past few days. He's barely been back to his apartment this week, opting to spend his nights in the library or on the couch of a friend who lives just a few minutes closer to campus. He’s still some ways off from his final semester, and he feels the overwhelming desire to just be done with it all. The long, boring lectures, the all-nighters, the studying his ass off and only barely passing. There's not much from college life he's sure he'll look back fondly on.

Wonsik lets out his biggest sigh of the night and packs up to leave. He'll actually go home this time. He needs to unwind and relax, if only for a night, so that he can clear his head and maybe get a breakthrough. No, Wonsik needs something closer to a miracle.

The walk back to his apartment is about ten minutes, which translates to three full listens of his unfinished composition. And as Wonsik is fumbling with his keys to unlock the door, he is still no closer to figuring out just what the hell he did wrong on this one. If Taekwoon is home maybe Wonsik will just ask him, but he hasn't seen his roommate in days. It's unusual but not alarming since they text each other often enough to relieve any worries.

The pair of shoes by the door lets Wonsik know he's not home alone and it's comforting. Maybe he can proposition Taekwoon to wallow in misery together in the form of watching bad sitcoms and stuffing their faces with ice cream. Taekwoon always eats his too fast and gets a brain freeze. The noises of distress he makes would have anyone else rushing to call an ambulance, but Wonsik just laughs until his side hurts and pinches the frown off Taekwoon's face till he's laughing too. And it's all fun and games until Wonsik lets Taekwoon have a spoon of his own ice cream and he has to watch as Taekwoon wraps his lips around the spoon slowly, eyes closed as he gives a satisfied hum. Because Wonsik's ice cream is his favorite but Taekwoon likes to experiment and always buys another flavor he never likes as much as Wonsik's pick. Wonsik doesn’t understand why he doesn’t just buy a tub of his own, but Taekwoon reasons that it’s silly to have two tubs of the same ice cream in the freezer. Wonsik knows he's not wrong, but still. His little spoon trick is getting old. Wonsik's feelings are getting old.

When Wonsik actually take a look around he notices all the lights in the apartment are off, even in Taekwoon's room. Taekwoon is usually out cooking by this time or sitting on the couch spacing out in front of the television. Sometimes he's not even home, opting to play either basketball or soccer down the street with some of the others from his kinesiology class. But there's a soft blue light peeping through the cracks of Taekwoon's door, so Wonsik tries a hand at knocking.

“Taekwoonie?” An answer doesn’t come right away, but it hardly ever does. So, Wonsik just waits a bit, thinking over all the messages Taekwoon has sent over the past few days that could explain his holing himself up in his room so early in the day.

Wonsik has a faint memory of Taekwoon asking him to come to one of his games because there was going to be a scout. Wonsik thinks that must be it and so he pushes his mind a bit more to come up with the exact date for the game and –

“Fuck.” Realization hits him hard and then the guilt quickly follows. Taekwoon has never asked him to come to one of his games, and the one time he did Wonsik promised he would go. But the game was yesterday, at the exact time he was cooped up in studio not getting any work done and just being frustrated and stupid and he could have totally gone to the game and he has no excuses.

“Taekwoon?” Wonsik tries again, this time with a softer knock, his “I’m really sorry I fucked up” knock. They're usually welcome in each other's room, but he feels awkward now. He hopes that Taekwoon would just meet him at the door instead of making him gather the courage to open it himself.

Thankfully, though still holding onto some dread, Wonsik hears shuffling from behind the door and it's soon opened.

Taekwoon looks tired. His eyes are red and his hair is messy and he's holding his arms across his body as if he's trying hard to keep himself upright and Wonsik feels worse. He doesn't know how he manages it, but he does.

“I'm so sorry, Taekwoon. I forgot about the game and I haven't been home to make it up to you and I haven't even messaged you back since yesterday morning and I'm so sorry.”

Taekwoon just stands still, lower lip between his teeth and eyes staring blankly ahead.

“Are you okay?”

Wonsik admits that might have been a stupid question to ask and the scoff Taekwoon emits just confirms it and he kind of wants to kick himself because he probably deserves it. No, he definitely deserves it.

“What do you think?”

“No?”

“Bingo.”

Wonsik’s shoulders drop. “Taek, I really am sorry.”

Taekwoon does it again, just stares ahead blankly long enough for Wonsik to get fidgety. Taekwoon said how important the game was, but having not been to any of his prior games Wonsik doesn’t know how much his absence would mean to him. Wonsik can't believe that it's enough for Taekwoon to be this upset that he doesn't speak. But maybe Wonsik has been away too long to notice the warning signs? Why didn't he just go to the stupid game? Why couldn't he remember? Why won't Taekwoon talk to him?

It’s about thirty more seconds of Wonsik not knowing what to do with his shaking hands and Taekwoon not even looking at him before he sighs. It's quiet, almost not there at all. If Wonsik's senses weren’t on overdrive he wouldn’t have heard it at all.

“I know, Wonsik. It's okay that you missed the game.” Wonsik’s head snaps up and he has to keep his jaws clenched so his mouth doesn’t fall open at his relief. “I mean, I kind of knew you would? I just…I'm tired.”

Wonsik noted the same thing earlier, but when Taekwoon says he's “tired” it means something completely different than what Wonsik means when he thinks it. When Taekwoon says he's tired it means he's tired of life and Wonsik’s heart picks up a bit because it's always the last thing he wants to hear coming from his roommate. His roommate who is now shaking from what could be exertion and the guilt creeps back up on Wonsik, because he's kept Taekwoon standing for so long when he obviously should be doing the opposite.

“Can I…come in?” Taekwoon shrugs as best he can with his trembling limbs and steps back to let Wonsik inside. After, he kind of crawls back into his bed and under the comforter till he's completely covered. Wonsik wonders how long he's been like this in the dark.

“Have you eaten yet?” Upon asking, Wonsik realizes his own response would be in the negative. Taekwoon stays silent.

“Are you hungry?” There's still no answer but Taekwoon is an athlete, prone to sickness but still an athlete, and he can't afford to miss meals. So, Wonsik walks over and sits beside Taekwoon's cocoon lump on the bed and pull the sheets back to see his face.

Taekwoon sticks his tongue out at Wonsik and reaches for the covers, whining when Wonsik pulls them all the way off.

Taekwoon curls into a tighter ball fitting his head in Wonsik's lap. He takes Wonsik's hand and places it in his hair, an obvious request. Wonsik obliges for about a minute, stopping to continue his interrogation even when the small sound Taekwoon emits once Wonsik's hand is gone softens his heart enough to reconsider. But health above emotions, Wonsik likes to tell himself.

“Have you eaten?”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Ramen.” There's disbelief pricking the back of Wonsik's mind, but if Taekwoon's lying at least it's believable so he doesn't have to feel too bad for not pushing further. He wouldn't have to doubt if Taekwoon would answer like a normal twenty-two-year-old instead of clipped and offended like a teenager trying to dispute a curfew.

“Did you drink at least two bottles of water today?”

“No.” The part of Wonsik that is hardwired to take care of Taekwoon sparks to life and he already has his nagging voice ready when Taekwoon speaks again. “I drank three.”

“You overgrown child.” Wonsik flicks Taekwoon's head softly and maneuvers so that he's standing and Taekwoon's head is back on his pillow. If Taekwoon says he's eaten, stayed hydrated, and isn't upset at him, then Wonsik will just let him sleep.

But it seems like Taekwoon has other plans as he looks up at Wonsik with his soft eyes and then down at the empty space in the bed. “Won _sik_.” Wonsik knows enough to figure out what Taekwoon is trying to ask without a question.

“Taek _woon_.”

“Please?” Wonsik knows if he lays down then he will go to sleep and he thinks about the composition he needs to finish, how he still needs to eat and wash up for bed. He still has himself to take care of.

“I can't, Taek.”

“Yes, you can.” Taekwoon says as he reaches out for Wonsik’s hands to pull him closer to the bed, till his knees are bumping against the mattress. “It’s late and my bed is right here. And I said please.” _He’s not wrong_ , Wonsik thinks. But the situation is.

“I really can’t. I should –” Taekwoon pulls harder till Wonsik’s halfway on the bed and when he looks at him, all Wonsik can see is the hurt that Taekwoon’s trying hard not to let slip into his tone. Wonsik sees the puffy eyes and the tear streaks and the bitten lips. So, Wonsik gives in, because if not sleeping alone tonight, if having someone to hold onto for tonight will help ease even a tiny fraction of the pain Taekwoon is feeling, then Wonsik will do it. No matter what.

So, Wonsik climbs all the way onto Taekwoon’s bed, fully clothed, and lets Taekwoon bury his head in his chest. He lets Taekwoon’s shaking hands twist into his shirt. And he lets their legs tangle together because no harm can come from this. From keeping Taekwoon from breaking. Even as Wonsik feels the imaginary cracks spreading through his own chest.

“It was a bad game.”

Wonsik is so sorry.

…

Wonsik’s gotten to the point of the night where his eyes are beginning to lose focus every five seconds and he can no longer decipher his own handwriting. But it’s only been four hours, he can usually last for six at the least.

Pressing his palms to the lids of his eyes for what he thinks is the millionth time tonight, Wonsik groans. He might just be a tad bit irritated as well. He doesn’t know at what or who, there’s just this itching at the back of his head and his eyes that’s telling him he needs to find a way to release all the tension he’s built up over the night.

He looks over at Taekwoon spread out on the studio’s couch. Usually he’s sleeping or fiddling on his phone, waiting for Wonsik to finish. But today, Taekwoon keeps squirming around and his face is pinched in the way that Wonsik thinks makes him look like he’s been sucking on sour lemons.

“I gotta _pee_.” Wonsik rolls his eyes when Taekwoon forces out yet another whine.

“That’s like the third time you’ve said that. Just go pee.” Taekwoon does this all the time. Whatever it is about him and public bathrooms, Wonsik just doesn’t understand. But it shouldn’t be worth getting an infection over. Though, Wonsik has never heard Taekwoon mention actually having an infection. Ever.

“I don’t _want_ to.” Taekwoon kicks his feet then, like the toddler he really is and Wonsik smiles, turning back to his journal so that Taekwoon can’t see. He’s trying to seem annoyed, not amused.

“Well, if you keep interrupting me, I’m going to kick you out.”

“Why don’t you have a restroom in here?” Wonsik’s nose scrunches at the thought.

“That’s fucking unsanitary.”  

“I said a restroom not just a toilet.”

Wonsik shrugs, penning a few words on the page he knows he’ll end up scratching out later. “Same difference.” This is the school’s studio, not his own, so he could only imagine how it might smell if he had so many strangers’ bodily fluids and germs permeating the space. Disgusting. He’s glad the restrooms are on an entirely different hallway.

“There’d be a door and everything.” Wonsik can tell that Taekwoon is getting lost in his fantasy because his voice acquires that beautiful lilt of curiosity to it that Wonsik hears often, but still never enough.

“Go use the fucking restroom or I will sit on your stomach.”

“Then I’d pee on the couch.” Taekwoon says it more like a fact than a threat, and Wonsik guesses that he’s right. Twirling his pen, Wonsik looks down and sees that he’s somehow written the word “pee” and he sighs.

With a frown, he turns back to Taekwoon. “I’m gonna throw this mouse at your head. Stop being a distraction.”

“Since when were you so violent?” There’s a smile playing across Taekwoon’s lips, and Wonsik wishes he didn’t look so perfect in the low light with his messy bangs and sweater paws. 

“Since you decided that whining while I’m working was better than being a responsible human being and emptying your bladder.” Wonsik throws a pen at Taekwoon that bounces off his stomach. He bites his lip when Taekwoon finally lets out the laugh he’s been holding, clutching his stomach like he’s been shot. “ _Go._ ”

“Fine.” Taekwoon winks before lazily rolling his body off the couch and into a standing position. “Since you asked so nicely.”

Wonsik goes back to staring at his notebook, trying to summon back even the small amount of concentration he had just five minutes ago. After five seconds, Wonsik gives up, closes his eyes and lets his head tilt to rest on the back of his chair, resolving to just wait for Taekwoon to return and tell him he’s finished for the night. But then there’s a weight on his shoulder and warm breath hitting his ear.

“Do you want anything?”

Wonsik can’t think past the closeness and the implications of Taekwoon’s words that he knows is not to be interpreted to mean what he’s thinking right now. “Huh?”

“From the vending machines, Shik, do you want anything?” There it is. Taekwoon is just being the kind and considerate roommate Wonsik has come to appreciate for well over two years. Nothing more. “I can pick it up on my way back?”

The clarification still doesn’t stop Wonsik from stumbling over his thoughts, because, god, does he wish it meant more. “No. Nope. I’m good. I – yeah.”

“Okay,” is the last thing Taekwoon blows into Wonsik’s ear before finally leaving him in pieces.

Frustrated, Wonsik runs a hand through his hair roughly and groans. He’s really gotta stop letting Taekwoon sit in on his studio sessions. But that’s easier said than done. It’s nice having Taekwoon here. Wonsik’s finally got him to agree to sing on some of his demos and when he needs help with the composition, it’s so convenient that he have Taekwoon in the same room as him, saving them the trouble of having to discuss the intricacies of delicate soundwaves over the phone.

Besides, any time with Taekwoon is time well spent in Wonsik’s opinion. Even if it does mean falling behind on a deadline because more often than not, he gets distracted. Like tonight.

Wonsik sits up from how he’d been slouching and stands to stretch for the first time since he sat down four hours ago. He’s about to sit back down when he eyes the couch Taekwoon just vacated and thinks how much more comfortable it is. He’d get to use it more if Taekwoon didn’t always spread his long limbs over its entire surface and left no room for Wonsik ever. So he lays down, thoughts unwillingly popping into his head about how nice it would be to lie on this couch next to Taekwoon, writing his lyrics while the other sings them softly into his ear. It would be very nice.

“What would be nice?”

“Noth –” Wonsik pauses when he eyes the 64 oz. bottle of water in Taekwoon’s hand that’s already half empty. There’s still condensation dripping from the bottle so Wonsik knows it’s new and he wants to flick his roommate’s forehead for all the frustration he’s causing him. He doesn’t bother to sit up when he glares at Taekwoon though, he’d rather complain from a comfortable position. “Where did you even get that?”

“From the vending machine.” Taekwoon says. The unspoken _duh_ very apparent to Wonsik. But he didn’t know they sold them that big in the machines.

“I swear, Taekwoon if you have to go –”

“Hush.” Taekwoon waves away Wonsik’s protests and sits next to where his head rests on the edge of the couch. “You should be done by the time this goes through my system anyway.” Cold, wet fingers brush across Wonsik’s forehead and through his hair. He represses a shiver. “When’s the last time you drank anything?”

“I don’t know. I’m working.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to turn yourself into a dried leaf in the process.” Wonsik tries not to think about how soft Taekwoon’s voice gets when he’s concerned, or how he gets that little crease between his eyes that Wonsik sometimes wants to trace with his finger. He wonders what Taekwoon would think if he did that. Probably nothing at all. Taekwoon does things like that to Wonsik all the time though, and Wonsik thinks the world of it. Maybe he should just stop thinking all the time. Stop thinking now.

“What if I _want_ to be a dried leaf?” Taekwoon doesn’t entertain Wonsik one bit. Just fixes him with a knowing look and unceremoniously presses the cold water bottle to Wonsik’s face, causing him to curse.

“Wonsik. Drink.”

So he does, straight from the bottle. And even though he doesn’t want to, he thinks about how Taekwoon’s lips wrapped around the same rim just moments before.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Think a bit on your favorite happy scene and let me know in the comments! For me, in this part, it definitely had to be between the beach scene and the field of flowers. I can't choose, they're both my precious babies. Wontaek are so happy just being together in each other's company and it's just nice and serene. I wished them many more moments like these.


	3. Year 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this came sooner than expected and this is also turning out to be broken up much more than initially planned which is starting to irritate me a little. But if I kept with my original plan then an update would take so much longer. And therefore, you guys are made to suffer through this short chapter while I work things out. I really am sorry.

“Say it again.”

“No.” Inside Wonsik is panicking and he wonders if Taekwoon can see just as much from the outside as well.

“Wonsik –”

“No. Taekwoon, I won’t say it again because I know you heard me the first time.” Wonsik moves to walk away. Where? He doesn’t know, just anywhere that Taekwoon isn’t. But a hand reaches to grab Wonsik’s wrist and turns him so that he’s looking into those eyes he loves so much. The eyes he knows can read him as easily as a children’s book. Wonsik hates it, but he wishes deep down those eyes would show him what he wants to see.

All Wonsik can make out is confusion.

“Why are you angry at me?”

“Because this is ridiculous!” Taekwoon flinches at Wonsik’s tone, but he holds his wrist tighter as if trying to draw all Wonsik’s fury into that one point of contact. Taekwoon anchors Wonsik even as he’s breaking him apart. “It’s all so fucking old. I’m tired.” Wonsik’s voice cracks near the end and he knows that his tears are close to falling if his blurred vision is any indication and he just wants to crawl away, away from Taekwoon and away from his emotions. Away from the rejection that’s so apparent it hits Wonsik in the gut, makes him want to scream.

But Taekwoon pulls him closer and Wonsik has nowhere else to look as his tears become too heavy and rush out, wetting the gentle hands that are now caressing his face.

“How long?” Wonsik swallows before answering.

“I don’t know. You can’t just pinpoint emotions like that.” They’re so close and Wonsik doesn’t know what to do with his hands so he flaps them around helplessly to keep from resting them on Taekwoon. “Everything just bubbles up till it’s spilling out. Like now.” Taekwoon keeps his gaze steady on Wonsik, his thumbs steadily wiping at Wonsik’s tears that only seem to flow faster.

“How long?”

“It’s been a while, Taek.” Wonsik tries to move away from Taekwoon, ready to seek shelter anywhere else. Ready to run away before baring everything right here and now. But Taekwoon’s hold just gets firmer. “A long while,” he relents.

“Wonsik, _how long_?”

 “Three years,” Wonsik answers in a broken sob. He feels like he has nothing left.

Taekwoon blinks, paralyzing Wonsik with his stare. Taking his hands away from Wonsik’s face, he nods and leaves without another word, while Wonsik tries not to let the sounds of his heartbreak travel through the walls.

…

Wonsik found that the comfort of his own room would be a more suited place to cry his insides out than the living room. So, he’s curled in on himself on his floor and wishing to fade away into nothing when he hears the soft knock at his door.

All his brain screams is _No._

“Wonsik can’t come to the door right now. Please leave a message at the beep and he will get back to you as soon as possible. Beep.”

“Wonsik, it’s me.” He starts a bit at hearing Hakyeon’s voice, telling himself that he shouldn’t have expected _him._ But Taekwoon is still the only one he wants to see right now. Even as he’s covered in tissues and tears and mucus, the product of letting his heart bleed out around him for what seems like forever. No, he doesn’t want to see the best friend of the man who’s reduced him to such a low state.

“Wonsik can’t come to the door right now. Please –”

“Open the door.” Hakyeon interrupts and Wonsik sighs because it sounds like he won’t give up. He won’t go away. Wonsik moves to stand, tissues rolling out of his lap. He’s three steps from the door when Hakyeon continues. “I brought cookies.” He sounds like he’s talking to one of the kids he teaches, voice soft and encouraging and just a little mischievous. Wonsik has always been a little weak for Hakyeon around children.

“Triple chocolate fudge?” He asks, hand already on the doorknob.

“Of course. What other cookies exist?” A part of Wonsik still doesn’t want to open the door. Doesn’t want to let someone else in on his pitiful party for one. He doesn’t want to see the smile he can hear in Hakyeon’s voice. He doesn’t want to be cheered up. But he knows if Hakyeon is here on a favor to Taekwoon, then he won’t leave until he feels he’s followed through. And Hakyeon also cares for Wonsik, he knows this.

So, he opens the door.

“Taekwoon told me what happened.” Wonsik rolls his eyes at both Hakyeon’s words and his tone.

“Of course he did. He tells you everything.”

Hakyeon just continues as if Wonsik hadn’t spoken. “– and that he’s scared because you won’t stop crying.” Hakyeon holds the water out for Wonsik to take but he just stares, takes another bite of his cookie. Hakyeon’s face scrunches disapprovingly. “You’re going to dehydrate.”

Wonsik huffs. “Let me.”

“Aren’t we a bit too old for the dramatics?” Wonsik swallows down the denial that threatens to come out because he knows it’s childish, what he’s doing. But he hasn’t loved like this since he was 16 and thought the guy who took all his firsts would also be his last. Now he’s 21 and crying over someone he never had. That was never his. That will never be.

“Hakyeon, I can’t.” A small whine escapes Wonsik as he feels the tears run down his face again. He wants to stop crying, but it just hurts too much. Hakyeon’s seen him cry before, but not like this. He’s barely breathing for all his sobbing and Wonsik feels his world slip from under his feet. He doesn’t think he can survive this. “He. . . it _hurts_.” Worse than the time Wonsik jumped a train and landed wrongly on his right ankle, left in a cast for eight weeks.

“I know, I know it does.” Hakyeon’s gathered Wonsik in a hug, one hand stroking his back for some kind of comfort. “But you’re not going to die, Wonsik. It feels like it, but you won’t. It’s okay. You’re going to be okay.”

“How long?” Wonsik echoes Taekwoon’s question from earlier, feels a pull in his chest.

“That’s up to you.”

 

[8]

Hakyeon was right, Wonsik doesn’t die. But the days, the weeks after – he could’ve sworn it was all he wanted to do. Because Taekwoon just carried on like nothing had ever happened, as if he never held Wonsik as he was bearing his heart, all his love, just laying it all out for Taekwoon to see. Only to have it tossed back down his throat.

But Wonsik doesn’t know if he’s meant to just bury it all back down because Taekwoon…

He still comes to Wonsik’s studio with food and a blanket and a deadline. He still crowds Wonsik’s space on the couch on the weekends. He still comes to Wonsik, voice soft and head bowed and asks to be taken away. “Anywhere, but here,” he whispers in Wonsik’s ear too late at night for it to not be morning.

And Wonsik is puzzled, if not still falling so deep in love. He reasons that Taekwoon never did turn him down. He never said he didn’t feel the same. He simply walked away in that Taekwoon manner Wonsik had come to know meant everything was done. That if Wonsik knew better, he wouldn’t bring it up again.

So, Wonsik doesn’t know what to think, what to do when Taekwoon curls himself next to him on the couch late one night. Wonsik was just trying to watch a movie, unwind with the comfort of knowing Taekwoon had already turned in hours before. But now he’s here, warm body pressed against Wonsik and piercing eyes staring up at him.

Wonsik believes he should be given a medal for how long he tries to ignore Taekwoon’s gaze, but there was always something in his eyes that captivated Wonsik from the very beginning. There’s only so much control he can maintain over his desire to stare right back. But when he does, Taekwoon brings a hand up, trails a finger down Wonsik’s cheek slowly. Wonsik’s breath catches. He takes hold of Taekwoon’s wrist and sits it back in his own lap. Wonsik is tired of letting Taekwoon toy with his feelings. But when Taekwoon does it all again, Wonsik is confused and he can only refuse Taekwoon so many times.

“Stop,” He says, but Taekwoon moves so that his face is just inches from Wonsik’s own, his hand still touching his face. Wonsik doesn’t have anywhere to go and Taekwoon still hasn’t said anything. Nothing at all to tell Wonsik why he’s doing all this when he knows how Wonsik feels.

Instead of listening, Taekwoon gets close, real close, till Wonsik can feel his breath on his cheek, till Wonsik thinks he might just kiss him. But Taekwoon just sighs right into Wonsik’s neck, then rests his head on Wonsik’s shoulder.

Wonsik opens his eyes, unaware they had even closed, and he stands up, suddenly very angry. He turns his glare to Taekwoon, satisfied to see him flinch.

“What the hell was that?”

“What?” Taekwoon matches Wonsik’s distressed posture with that of a man almost completely unbothered. But Wonsik sees the uncertainty flickering in his eyes and he wonders how after all these years he still can’t manage to figure out just what makes Taekwoon act the way he does.

He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Don’t fuck with me. Please.”

“Shik, I was just –”

“What? Trying to get a rise out of me? Congratulations! You succeeded.” Wiping his palms on his pants, Wonsik sits in one of the chairs, as far from Taekwoon as the furniture allows.

“You can’t just –. You have – you have to _feel_ – something? Taekwoon, you have to feel _something_!” Wonsik can’t think for all his frustration and Taekwoon is just there, in the exact same place he was when this all started, the exact same expression of pity on his face. And Wonsik can’t think. He can’t think. He can’t think past all the disappointment. He is disappointed. It is overwhelming.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Wonsik doesn’t think he’s wrong. There were too many signs, and actions speak louder than words. Taekwoon’s lingering touches and his sideways glances, and his attentiveness and his –

It all had to have meant something!

“I –” The look on Taekwoon’s face says it all. About how Wonsik was somehow mistaken. About how Wonsik is somehow wrong. But it doesn’t register fully in Wonsik’s mind. Because it _all meant something_.

“Taekwoon, look me straight in the eyes and tell me that I’m wrong.” Wonsik pleads. And when Taekwoon catches his eyes, he wants to take it all back. Because he doesn’t want to hear what Taekwoon’s preparing himself to say. But it’s too late.

“You’re wrong.”

Wonsik knew it was coming. He knew, and yet, it still hits him with the force of a thousand arrows straight to the heart.

“No.”

He believes Taekwoon and he doesn’t at the same time. He hates Taekwoon and loves him at the same time. But the only thing that makes sense to Wonsik brain at the moment is that he has to get away.

“Where are you going?” If Wonsik wanted to concentrate on Taekwoon right now he’d be able to hear the fear and concern in Taekwoon’s voice, but all he cares about is getting his shoes, his jacket, his keys.

“I gotta go.”

“Wonsik, wait.” Taekwoon calls out but, for the first time it feels like, Wonsik doesn’t listen to him.

 

[9]

“Wonsik, are you drunk?” Hongbin steals a glance at the time on his phone. He’s not terribly shocked to have gotten the call past three am, seeing as Taekwoon messaged him with a warning that a distraught Wonsik was on the loose and hadn’t been home the previous night. And since Taekwoon had to leave that afternoon and is on the “no-call” list, Wonsik might need someone to get him out of trouble. Hongbin hadn’t asked any questions, but he figured he’d be able to piece together the entire situation in the next couple seconds or so.

“I’m drowning.”

“What?”

“Why doesn’t he love me?” Wonsik sounds as dramatic as he is intoxicated and Hongbin has to stop himself from sighing too loud. It’s gonna be a night, but at least it’s one he’s long been prepared for. He’s surprised Wonsik was able to keep it together for as long as he has.

“I don’t think that’s –”

“I’m hot, right?” Wonsik pauses, but not long enough to let Hongbin get a word in edgewise. “I’m nice and considerate and loving and caring and neat and why can’t he love me?” Shaking his head, Hongbin puts Wonsik on speaker before tossing his phone on the nightstand and moving to put on clothes. Wonsik is obviously going to need assistance wherever he is and Hongbin never trusted cabs so late in the night.

“Have you asked him?”

“That’s stupid. You’re stupid.” Then, a little quieter and clearly directed to the bartender at whatever bar he’s at, Wonsik whines, “One more please.” And that has Hongbin fumbling to button his jeans faster and grab his phone so that he can leave.

“Okay, Wonsik, where are you? I can come pick you up and you can stay with me a couple days. Does that sound good?”

“I want Taekwoonie to come. I wanna go home with Taekwoonie.”

“You can’t do that, Shik. Remember? Taekwoon went home this weekend to his parents.”

“No. He left to get away from me because he doesn’t love me, but he has to live with me and he knows I love him and he hates me.” Hongbin pauses, his hand hovering over the doorknob.

“He doesn’t hate you.” Hongbin tries to sound as sincere as he can to get through the haze that’s making Wonsik’s mind conjure up all these falsehoods. Even with all that Hongbin guesses about Taekwoon, he knows that he doesn’t hate Wonsik. Not even a little bit.

“He hates me, and you hate me and I’m the stupidest person in the world and he’s so cute and adorable and fuck the things he could do with his mouth I bet –”

Hongbin feels himself being pulled into action again when he senses the desperation in Wonsik’s slurred words. He steels himself as he closes the door and walks ahead in search for a broken heart. “Wonsik, please tell me where you are. I’m going to come get you and you are staying with me for the night.”

“No, Bin. I want –”

“It’s not up for debate. Tell me where you are.”

…

Wonsik expects the head-splitting pain when he wakes up, but not the medicine and plate of breakfast on the nightstand that he recognizes as Hongbin’s.

The memory of last night trickles back slowly along with his consciousness and Wonsik has to take many deep breaths to calm the rising panic he’s feeling. His last moment with Taekwoon is still running on a constant loop in his mind he doesn’t know how to stop.

Wonsik brings a hand to up to rub at his chest, his emotional pain manifesting itself physically in the most cliché way and he wishes it would all just stop, hates that it seems like he’s back at stage one.

It’s up to him, Hakyeon had said, to decide how long he’s going to let himself linger in his despair. The naïve romantic in Wonsik wants him to hold on to it forever, because at least this way his heart will always belong to Taekwoon. It’s his more reasonable conscious however, that Wonsik resolves to listen to. Because he can’t function like this. Getting drunk every night and crying isn’t how Wonsik wants to live out the rest of his life.

When he’s calmed down enough that he doesn’t feel like he’d run to the station and buy a bus ticket to Taekwoon’s home town, Wonsik starts picking at the plate of food left for him.

He’s halfway through when Hongbin comes in and gives him a onceover. Wonsik immediately drop his head when Hongbin’s stare becomes too much.

“Feeling better?” Wonsik doesn’t expect the sincerity in Hongbin‘s voice and suspects that he never gave his friend credit for always being there to make sure he remains a functional human being.

“Thank you, Hongbin. I…I’m sorry for last night.” It’s silent for a moment while Wonsik refuses to look up. Then Hongbin sighs and joins him on the bed.

“Don’t worry about it.” Hongbin pats Wonsik’s thigh reassuringly before tilting his head up so that they finally look each other in the eyes. “Did you want to tell me about what happened? I think I can try to piece a bit of it together, but.”

“I am pretty transparent, huh?”

“That’s an understatement.” Hongbin smiles and gestures at Wonsik to continue.

In between bites and sips and extremely long pauses to keep himself from crying, Wonsik tells Hongbin everything. He’s not shocked by the lack of surprise on Hongbin’s face. He had been telling Wonsik for years not to do this very thing. But just like all the other times Wonsik has come running to Hongbin about something regarding Taekwoon, Hongbin has never rubbed it in just how right he’s always been.

“So, what are you going to do now?”

Wonsik opens his mouth to answer, sure there is a response on the tip of his tongue. But there’s nothing. He doesn’t actually know what he wants to do from here, what he can bring himself to actually do. Because going home fills him with absolute dread, even with Taekwoon away for the weekend. If Wonsik goes home, then he’s just reminded of everything he’s ruined.

Wonsik looks up Hongbin, lost and broken, “I don’t know.”

Hongbin presses his lips together in a tight smile and nods at Wonsik.

“You can stay here until you figure it out.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 3/27/19 edit - I'm not giving up on this!! I just...you guys would not believe how much my life has changed in the last five months it's insane. But I'm trying to crank out the final part of this story to give you guys. I know it's been like forever but I still want to finish this.


End file.
